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#150 One Five Zero

One
Five
Zeros

Swedishish

We Swedes have always been a breed unique to all others in the world. Through the past centuries our innovative conceptives have known no bounds, and ever since the grand era of Vikings we have continually slashed ourself a wider and brighter path towards the new hope our alternative futures may bring. In later tidings with much fewer gradients of brutality, but towards the future nevertheless. I know we have a great deal of genius behind us. Zippers, dynamite, propellers, a multitude of varied inventions.

In the new age we have been first with many things, we were the first country to introduce the 100 mbps broadband connection speed, and the first country to introduce the 1000 mbps speed. We were first with 3G, we will be first with 4G. The file-sharing community has reached revolutionary levels in Sweden, piracy has breached controversy and heads towards politics, we introduce new methods of thinking and are thus even quoted by other magazines as 'the country who rules the world' (wish I had a reference for that, but you can probably Google something up). Not all progress is positive, but all progress is progress, and I am positively surprised when I at times stumble upon our inventions online. Did you know Spotify is Swedish? How about Skype? And the TinyMCE text editor? Every once in a while I stumble upon a script made by some Swedish designer, some of them recognized worldwide, and it just makes me go wow and want to make a blog about it, so here you go.

Not only scripts I find, but also translations come to mind. For new open-source forum systems, blogging platforms and other nifty programs released in international English standard, a Swedish language file seems to be one of the first one that pops up, and that makes me, obviously, happy. It might be the climate, the balance between hot and cold, or maybe the two hundred thousand larger puddles that decorate our landscapes, but in terms of inspiration this nation is divinity. Politicians may lead our country astray, form unions with unresourceful options such as EU and sell out all successful government-owned Swedish companies, but on the Internet we win race supreme. It's not surprising to know that everyone knows little Sweden, yet it does surprise me every time I learn why. Ode in blog form, complementary.

#149 New Grid

I see
The world
It is wide
It is big
It is large
It is tiring
To watch

I see
The world
I am part
Of its grid
I depart
From my part
Mid amidst

All the warfare
Shattered glass
All the fighting
Table halves
All the lighting
Now stands dark
And on a new walk
I embark

Towards a grid
Where you can't see
The squares inside it
And you can be
Anywhere
Within the square
Without fighting

Summer Upcoming

Summer Upoming

I'm leaving for summer, not now, but soon.
It's now I stop writing stuff though, now, that it's noon.
I suppose that in three months, back to this site I shall tune.
To stride the things I write this summer, sights, sounds, perfume.

So in shorter less poetical verbs - it's time for my yearly trilogy of summerly months, staying in uncivilized areas i northern Sweden out of common computeral reach, so I'll see you later, maybe tune in each month via a public library, but less than that, not much Internetal connectivity allowed. Bye Bye.

What Makes The Blog

So I've been thinking about what makes a good blog. It's not the content, obviously, since good content never really gets much attention. By good content I mean a blog with a lot of text, that the author of the blog actually wrote, consistently diving down into unpatternized arrays of thought, and only images included that the author of the blog actually took (with camera, not from someone else) or made. I'm not speaking about good and bad in terms of righteousness, but in terms of time/effort taken to produce, or units of creativity/difference. The worse the content is, the more attention a blog gets. Anything that's been posted before. Anything that takes but a second to copy and paste. Anything that with time and repeated distribution has become a normality.

It seems we human beings are very simple minded, and normal, we stay in flocks, but it's in our nature, and it's a frequency in our roll of blogs. In modern society there is a group to represent everyone, and then there are the people who don't chose to be represented by any other groups, the rebels. They build a group of their own. Additionally, there are the people who don't fit into any existing groups, who have due to previously unique patterns of life and personal development gained a separate identity no other individual is endowed with. All the groups feed on each other, like the Earth, the cycle of blogging. The individuals without groups to fit, however, either create their own base of interest, or, never gain any acknowledgment or understanding at all.

A wise me once thought:

When it comes to blogging, a thousand words doesn't mean a thing, yet a picture seems to sing.

In fact, pictures always lead the way, words don't. Quick statistical research goes to show that on most open community websites where blogs are included in the common interface, pictures are the preferred types of media in contentual concern. People take a quick look at a picture and judge the post by it's cover. People don't like going undercover. Digging down into the soil below and thinking about what was written. Thoughts seldom gain followers, events by people with acknowledged creativity do. The comment system on blogs is an equal share, authors appreciate comments as they tell them that they are being appreciated, and commenteers gain appreciation from having their comments displayed on a page. This, giving concieval to spam, a less appreciated by blog authors self-serving term of appreciation.

With ideals like this, the blogging sphere becomes unbalanced. Authors lose interest, groups close, the cycle of blogging stops. Yet the number of blogs continues to increase, the wedge of appreciation doesn't keep up with the space between the door, and in due time the door can blow shut, without anything to stand in it's way. That's the way.

Bursk

Bursk

I felt like drawing without knowing what I felt like drawing. This is what came up upon my canvas this time.

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